A War Against Time
by TheFluteInRed
Summary: When the Sandlot boys are thrown into the Newsies world, they discover a cutthroat society where your brother one day could you the next. Will they keep the tenacious peace, or be the spark that fuels the war?
1. Spot Conlon

**FULL SUMMARY: When the Sandlot boys are thrown into the turn-of-the-century New York world of the Newsies, they find themselves in a violent city where your brother one day could try to kill you the next. Will they keep the tenacious peace, or be the spark that fuels the war? **

**THIS FIC DOES SWITCH BETWEEN POINTS OF VIEW- PAY ATTENTION TO CHAPTER TITLES**

**WARNING: This has been rated "T" since, during the course of this fic, many characters mention or participate in drugs, sex, and violence. Due to the increased occurrences of these three events, this fic will be rated "M" later on. Just a warning.**

**A War Against Time  
Chapter One: Spot Conlon**

In the late afternoon at the Manhattan Newsboys' Lodging House, I watched with a smirk as Swifty desperately tried to get his leader's attention. "JACK!"

"WAT?" Kelly turned around with a frustrated look on his face. Seeing me standing there, he added, "Oh. Spot."

I felt insulted by the 'oh-it's-just-you-I-have-more-important-things-to-do' attitude he was showing and glared at him, throwing in a curled lip to seem more intimidating.

He shivered, though only I could see it, and cleared his throat. After taking a small breath, he corrected, "Yeah, Spot? You was gunna say?"

Grinning my infamous Brooklyn grin, I said, "What I was gunna say was dat you 'nd summa' yoah bois is comin' ta Brooklyn."

Kelly scoffed. He hated it when I assumed he'd do something and not ask him to do it. I, on the other hand, simply took advantage in the fact that he never refused. "And why," He began, keeping his cool in front of Kloppman at the desk, "is dat?"

I entertained the idea of how to explain my ordeal to the Manhattaners without sounding weak. It took me a while to pick out the right words, "Dere've been a few punks who decided ta show up in mah terri'try 'nd not say so. You'se gotta bring summa' yoah bois to help threaten 'em."

"_Help_..?" He asked slowly, staring at me in the disbelief that me, the King of Brooklyn, had just said that word.

I realized what I had just admitted to and corrected him without skipping a beat, "Strength in numbahs, Jackie boy."

Walking out of the open door and back towards my home borough, I heard Kelly run out behind me and call, "Anyting else?"

I smiled. So easy, so easy to get whatever I wanted out of him. Turning my face back to its unemotional mask, I turned my neck so one eye was on him, over my shoulder.

"Tomorrah," I said, stopping where I was, "Aftah yah sell yoah papes. You 'nd foah a' yoah toughest."

"Suah, Spot." Kelly said, smiling.

_Idiot_, I thought, but I smiled as well as I continued to walk towards home.

0-0-0

Ticks joined me as soon as I was out of the Manhattaners' sight, swinging from an alleyway as if he had spontaneously appeared out of the shadow of a building. I was used to it. It was the kind of person Ticks was- sneaking out of shadows; talking in a husky, low voice; never saying anything about himself or his past; always fighting, quite literally, with tooth and nail. It was a common story among some newsies that he was a vampire, and I didn't blame them, because if he wasn't, he certainly acted like one.

His thin, pointed, pale face looked irregular in the afternoon sunlight, especially when contrasted with his greasy black hair. The guy was incredibly thin and flexible- he almost never ate, at least not in front of other newsies. Ticks was the perfect spy and the perfect thief, the main reasons he was currently my right-hand man.

"So?" I asked, knowing he was there but refusing to look.

"So wat?" He retorted in his half-whispering sarcastic tone. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him in his dirty, half-open shirt and thick brown suspenders, his faded checkered pants rolled up to below his knees. He looked like a guy who had lived the first decade and a half of his life underground. Smirking, he cocked his head at me and watched me for my answer.

"Anyting new goin' on?"

"'A course, Spot. You stupid oh' sometin?" Ticks teased. He'd spent the past two years taunting me, trying to figure out what my breaking point was. As far as I'd shown him, I didn't have one.

"Wat's goin' on wit all dose punks?" I asked, hissing at him jokingly.

"Aw, nuttin' much, Spotty." A second voice said, joining me on my other side. Another one of my newsies, Jacki, had slid smoothly into place on my left. She scoffed and took a drag on her cigarette, swung her straight, raven-black hair over her shoulder, her golden-brown eyes watching me teasingly from underneath a dirty blue bandana. "Wat's goin' on wit cha?"

"Nuttin'." I growled, warning her about her use of that stupid pet name. I flicked my eyes back and forth, watching bums and various other people walk up and down the streets.

I had no right to be nervous- my two best fighters were on either side of me- but I still felt shifty, like something was lying in wait to mug me as soon as I passed its alleyway. After all, alleyways could be pretty dangerous places, even for people like me, but I would never admit that to anyone else.

I felt a cold chill, a theoretical change in my own luck, dance down my spine. I took my hat off and wiped my forehead to cover up my shiver.

"Hot day." Jacki said, but I knew she'd noticed my uneasiness. Being my girlfriend, she had a way of noticing when something was wrong with me or my mood, despite my best attempts at shrouding my feelings when we weren't alone.

I ignored her, not saying another word about what I'd been thinking.

0-0-0

The strangers' arrival had either been late in the morning or early in the afternoon- it was next to impossible to tell exact time. I'd first heard of their appearance from Buck, a brunette fifteen-year-old newsie named for her talent at running and evasion. She, Jacki, and a third girl nicknamed Gills had discovered one of them lying by the riverside, or something like that. I hadn't paid attention to most of the conversation because she had said all I needed to hear: Some other riff-raff was on _my_ territory, so now_ I_ had to get to the bottom of it.

I tuned back into my surroundings, unaware that I had been out of it for a while. Our trio had already passed the Bridge, and was turning down the side alley towards the main Brooklyn LH. At least, what passed for one.

The building was old, broken-down, and rotting where it stood, but it was home. There were three floors- one for the lobby, one for the boys' bunks, and the third tier for the girls'.

Girl newsies weren't a common sight, and the only ones I knew stayed in Brooklyn. The nearest boroughs, Queens and Manhattan, had boy-only lodging houses, so for them it was pretty much either here or the streets. When they opted to stay, none of the guys complained. Some members of the two floors often slept with one another, but no one cared. It was Brooklyn- we did whatever the hell we felt like and soaked anyone who tried to stop us.

It wasn't as if the LH was run strictly, either. Morgan, the caretaker, was either high on his illegally-obtained drugs or drunk most of the time. Fortunately for us, his sense of discipline didn't change with his degree of soberness.

My bunk was in a corner, by a stuck, old, painted-over window, far away from anyone else's. As soon as I had returned, I went straight for my bunk and lay down, staring at the springs of the empty mattress above me. Pulling down my hat over my eyes, I felt the sweet tug of sleep when-

"Spotty."

I didn't bother opening my eyes or even moving, since I knew that Jacki was there and she wanted to talk. Maybe if I didn't move she would-

Yes. She knew me too well.

With an amused sigh, she swung herself onto the bunk and sat atop me, a few inches below my belt, with one of her legs on either side of me. Determined as I was not to move, I let myself grin a little at her attention. "Ruling" a borough as I did often came with benefits.

She took my hat too quickly for me to stop smiling. The moment she saw my face she laughed and shook her head, saying, "I knew dat'd get'cha up."

I cracked a half-grin and nodded my head, "Dat' get any guy up." I hoped she'd be convinced by my joking manner so I wouldn't have to confess my nervous thoughts or shifting confidence.

It was a lost hope- I could tell just by looking into her eyes that she knew something was eating at me.

"Alrite," She began, "Wat's wrong?" Placing my hat backwards on her head on top of her bandanna, she leaned over me and looked directly into my face.

"Whaddya mean, wat's wrong?" I said back, looking as unemotional as I could, "Nuttin's wrong," I gave a fake yawn just to convince her and stretched a little, "I'mma jus' tired is all."

She wasn't persuaded by my acting in the least. "Liah. Dere's sometin' you need ta get offa' yoah chest and it ain't my ass." Chuckling a little at her own lighthearted joke, she watched my eyes expectantly, waiting for a sign of weakness.

Neither of us blinked much as the staring contest continued on. Although I tried as hard as I could, even I didn't have as cold a stare as Jacki did. I slowly caved in under her gaze, eventually giving in and sighing in defeat, "It's dose punks. Dey keep botherin' me, even wen dey ain't heah."

Her next facial expression questioned me further without her saying anything, I continued.

"It's just- alla' dem just showed up on me terri'try one day, pretendin' not ta know a ting 'bout newsies oh sellin' papes-"

"Yoah worried dat they's gunna steal da Brooklyn King's trone." Jacki said, and smiled a little at her ability to pinpoint my every problem.

"Jus' a little, but yeah." I admitted, refusing to give in all the way.

"S'alrite, I ain't gunna tell nobody."

I kissed her on the cheek, and then whispered in her ear, "Tanks." She leaned closer to me, I we were about to kiss again when-

"SPOT!"

Jacki painfully jumped off of me and landed on her feet next to the bunk while I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

Spades, a seventeen-year-old Irish beanpole of a newsie, ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time. I saw his bright orange hair before anything else, and he didn't stop running until he was two feet away from me.

"Wat 'sit, Spades?"

He began to pant a little, but he managed to stammer out, "All dem new kids is gone!"

Jacki straightened up and grabbed the collar of Spades' shirt threateningly, "How'd dey get out a' da basement, ya fink?"

"I dunno, Jacki! Buck's gone too!"

I buried my face in my hands as I overheard this conversation. Buck was supposed to be watching the four of them- and now they've all just disappeared? This "new kids" business was getting more serious than I thought.

Jacki let go of Spades and turned to me, "Spot…"

I stood up, stealing my hat back and picking up my cane, "I know, Jacki. I gotta feelin' we ain't heard da end a' dis."

**And thus concludes the first revised piece!**

**SPECIAL THANKS GOES OUT TO SEVEN QUESTIONMARKS, without whose reminder I would have forgotten to revise and re-post this! Again, thank you!**

**DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A THOUGHTFUL REVIEW!  
Your time and words are appreciated!**


	2. Ben Rodriguez

**FULL SUMMARY: When the Sandlot boys are thrown into the turn-of-the-century New York world of the Newsies, they find themselves in a violent city where your brother one day could try to kill you the next. Will they keep the tenacious peace, or be the spark that fuels the war? **

**THIS FIC DOES SWITCH BETWEEN POINTS OF VIEW- PAY ATTENTION TO CHAPTER TITLES**

**WARNING: This has been rated "T" since, during the course of this fic, many characters mention or participate in drugs, sex, and violence. Due to the increased occurrences of these three events, this fic will be rated "M" later on. Just a warning.**

**A War Against Time  
Chapter Two: Ben Rodriguez**

"Are you sure this is such a good idea?"

"Yah, it'll be fine. If anyone gets soaked, it'sa gunna be me." The girl sitting at the mouth of the alley said with a smile and lighthearted laugh.

I wasn't so sure about her confidence in the situation. In fact, I wasn't so sure about _my_ confidence in _anything to do_ with the situation. As if falling asleep in my own bed and dreaming about living in the past wasn't weird enough, I then had to wake up and quickly learn I _was_ living in the past.

Shortly after waking up, I had been roughly escorted by a pair of girls, both of whom looked around my age, into the basement of a rotting old building that looked like it was built by a couple of amateurs that had the idea in their head to recreate the Leaning Tower of Pisa. There, I had learned that the five of us- me, Smalls, Squints, Yeah-Yeah, and Ham- had somehow traveled back in time to turn-of-the-century New York City. Here, it turns out, the streets are ruled by various gangs of kids who call themselves Newsies- and they were, I also learned, _very_ protective of their territory.

The girls I'd been found by were members of the Brooklynite gang- called so because they lived in Brooklyn. Duh. Each member I'd seen so far went by a nickname, which pretty much allowed them to be immediately identified with any other newsie. As an example, the girl who stood at the end of the alley was called Buck, real and last names unknown.

"Whaddya mean, 'soaked'?" Ham growled from the back of the alley, imitating Buck's heavy accent with obvious distaste.

She shook her head and smiled, which made me want to grin a little just looking at her. With a glance back to the busy city street beside our small alleyway, she walked over and joined the circle the guys and me had made. The five of us were winded from the inexplicable run she'd just led us on, but she didn't looked fazed by the distance in the least.

"Y'all really ah' crazy den, if you ain't nevah hoid of soakin' befoah." She laughed without really answering Ham's question.

"Maybe we are," Began Smalls, trying not to show his inner fear of being in an unfamiliar place with someone he didn't know, "But can you explain to us what just happened back there?"

"Yeah-yeah!" Yeah-yeah added, with a hint of exhaustion still in his voice.

Buck grinned again and scoffed playfully, "Man, ya guys all gotta lot ta loirn."

She checked the streets a few more times as Ham attempted to interrogate her. He repeated he same set of questions over and over, sounding like a broken record that grew more agitated every time it skipped back.

"Where are we? Why are we here? Who the heck are you? Why the hell did your friends lock us in a basement?"

Finally, Buck lost her cheerful demeanor and glared. "Shaddup, alreddy! Frickin' annoying kid..."

Ham stopped, unsure whether the ice he tread upon was thin or not.

"Sorry about him," I said quietly from my spot, leaning against a fire escape rail, "Sometimes he just doesn't know when to quit." I gave Ham a glare as well, for good measure.

"Naw, 'sokay." She said, turning towards us so her back was to the street, "Yous' probably got no idea whas' goin' on anyway." Her eyes met mine, and a look flashed across her face that was almost- pity. "Y'all gots no idea wat 'chu got inta by runnin' outta dere."

This was quite true. I mean, we were pretty stupid to think that all five of us should just bolt for it in order to escape our teenaged 'kidnappers'. But still, as far as I had known, we could have been captured by some sort of aliens disguised as teenagers in order to have human experiments. So you can't really blame me for encouraging the other guys to run as fast as they could away from their hideout.

Then again, I guess we were lucky that Buck found us as opposed to anyone else. We would have been lost and separated for months in this giant old city, had she not shepherded us all into this alleyway and kept us together.

Now lay the problem of what to do next.

"Lemme do ya' a favah, Pudge," Buck said, drawling out her accent just for the sake of annoying Ham, "I'll answah one a' yoah questions. Yoah pick."

Interesting. She'd found a way to challenge Ham's supposed superiority while entertaining the rest of us.

"I pick 'why the hell did your friends lock us in a basement'!" Ham said finally, flaunting his proper pronunciation in the girl's face.

Yeah-Yeah's eyes widened. So did mine. Why was Ham being so arrogant to a girl who pretty much just saved our lives?

"Awrite, good. Ya picked da easy one." She smiled, spitting on the ground beside where she stood, "'Is simple, y'see? All a' Brooklyn is our terr'try. If ya ain't got a deal wit us, you cain't be on our turf."

This seemed to satiate the majority of the boys there. Except Smalls, who gingerly raised his hand as if he was in school.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask a not-totally-unrelated question, Buck?" He said timidly, as if uncomfortable with addressing the newsie by her accepted name.

"Suah, kid." She answered, as sweet as she could pull off with the accent, throwing a smirk to Ham in the process.

"Who exactly do you mean with 'our,' 'we,' and 'us'?"

"Da Brooklynite newsies, a' coarse! We'se da only ones allowed trough heah, see, 'cus we'se the ones dat live heah."

Smalls gave a soft 'oh' of understanding. Buck smiled at the situation in general, lifting the guys' spirits a little at their whole predicament.

And what a predicament it was. Since we'd pretty much ran out the one place we might have a chance of fitting in, where else did we have to go? Were we stuck here, 64 years in the past of New York City, forever?

"In case yoah wonderin'," Buck began slowly, lifting her blue-grey eyes to meet mine, "I figahed out a way youse can get back ta da LH widdout youse'll getting' soaked foah it."

"Really?" I asked, half in disbelief of her ability to form a plan so quickly.

"Yeah." She had a slight 'tsk' in the word, playfully shaking her head at my underestimation of her. "But in ordah to get it ta woirk, you gotta do somethin' you might not wanna do."

"Whas' that?" I asked, only half-aware that the conversation had developed between only her and me.

She watched me for another second, trying to tell if I'd truly meant to try to amend my mistake in running from the Brooklynites. I looked back at her.

"You look like yoah a strong one," She began quietly, "So in ordah foah this to woik, ya need to hit me as hard as ya can."

There wasn't a slightest bit of hesitation in my voice, "No."

The same time I'd said it, Ham's face turned red with anger and he practically screamed, "That's a stupid question! Why would ya ever hit a girl?"

"'Cus dat's the only way yoah all getting' outta dis problem a' yoahs." Buck said with a quiet snarl hidden in her voice.

She had a point. But then again, it was pretty much a sin to hit a girl.

Buck turned back to me and asked again, "Jus' a liddle punch."

"No."

"C'mon, you wanna get outta dis problem oah not?"

"No. I'm not hitting a girl. It's," I paused, searching for the right word to make my phrase seem final, "It's wrong."

"Fine." She got up with a disappointed roll of her eyes and strode towards the alley's mouth. "Stay heah. I'ma gunna be rite back. Do NOT leave dis alley!"

Her last words were forceful, ringing in the air a few moments after she had disappeared from view.

"Alright," Began Ham slowly, verbally testing his surroundings for any sign of Buck that still lingered, "What the hell is her problem?"

Smalls fidgeted where he sat a little before saying softly, "Don't be so mean, fellas. She's only trying to help."

"But, Smalls, you must admit," Squints said, speaking up the first time since we had first entered the alleyway. He adjusted his glasses and continued, "her demands ARE a little ridiculous."

Yeah-Yeah agreed with his namesake. "Yeah-yeah!"

I rolled my eyes and left my place on the wall, walking to the spot previously occupied by Buck. "Y'know what? YOU guys are all the ones being ridiculous. All she's trying to da could end up savin' all our asses, and you're being downright ungrateful!"

"Whoa, cool your jets! Defending your girlfriend, are ya?" Ham growled.

"Yeah-yeah!" Yeah-yeah said accusingly.

"Shaddup!" I struggled to keep my voice under control and to keep my face from turning red, "She ain't my girlfriend!"

"No?" Squints jumped up and glared me back against the wall I'd leaned against earlier, "Then what's with all the googly eyes when she's not watchin' you?"

"I'm not makin' no googly eyes, moron!"

These guys were really starting to tick me off. How dare they! I mean, yes, she wasn't ugly. Yes, she had pretty blue-grey eyes and dark auburn hair that shone red in the sun. Yes, she had a little bit of a larger.. chest than most girls I'd seen. But still, suggesting that she would be my _girlfriend_? That was outrageous!

"Why, you-" I stopped, looking behind Squints, who was still forcing me against the wall.

There were two girls standing at the mouth of the alley that I hadn't noticed before. One of them was Buck, and the other one, just a few inches shorter, I'd seen before. Jacki, I think. She was the tough-as-nails co-leader of the Brooklynites. She, even in the few minutes I'd known her, had succeeded in truly terrifying me.

So why was she here? I had no freakin' clue. All I knew was that it was going to be a good reason.

Neither of them seemed to notice us, because we were all so deep in the alleyway where Buck had told us to stay. They were near the mouth, talking and joking, even though we couldn't hear what they were saying. Buck hit Jacki playfully on the shoulder, then gestured to her own face. The shorter girl glanced in both directions, not seeming to notice us when she shot a fleeting look in our direction.

When she looked back at Buck, she shoved her against the brick wall before delivering a crushing uppercut. Buck's head snapped backwards into the wall, slamming against it before her frame crumpled to the ground.

My eyes widened, and I let loose an unrestrained gasp. Squints finally backed off and turned to see what was happening just to watch Jacki stoop down to help Buck up.

I pushed Squints aside and ran to the pair of them, throwing Buck's arm around my shoulder and beginning to half-carry, half-drag the semi-conscious girl to the back of the alley in case someone else would wonder what just happened.

"I got her." I said, smoothing my voice over with what I hoped came off as effortlessness.

"Awwrite." She sighed carelessly, leaving Buck's full weight to my care; it was sudden, and I was forced to support her with my other arm around her waist. It made me blush, which I hoped to Heaven no one saw.

Jacki found a shorter, unoccupied barrel for me to help Buck to sit on. Buck was regaining some of her senses now, I could tell by the way she was struggling against my grip in order to get to the seat Jacki had prepared for her. She sat down slowly, and as Buck began to shake herself back into reality.

"You okay?" Jacki asked her, snapping her fingers in Buck's face.

"Yah, I'm fine." She coughed out, shaking her head one more time before rubbing her eyes. As she raised her head, she began to blink repeatedly before her eyes and mind appeared to adjust to the change in circumstances.

"Whaddya mean, you're fine? You just got socked in the face!" Ham said, unsure about what exactly just happened.

"When she says fine, she means fine." Jacki growled, causing Ham to back up a few feet away from her. Then, she turned back to Buck and began a series of questions, which Buck answered one by one.

"Who?"

"Rampage."

"When?"

"A few howahs ago."

"Wheah?"

"Brooklyn LH basement as I answahed da door."

Jacki paused, chewing over the information she'd just been told. There was a cursory glance thrown in our general direction, as if she'd been sizing us up. A few seconds of silence littered with thinking, rapid blinking on Buck's part, and Yeah-yeah's repeated tapping on the barrel he used as a chair.

"Awwrite, youse'll gotta listen up. We'se gettin outta heah. Now." Jacki said suddenly, forcefully breaking the silence when her short sword collided with the barrel's iron rim.

"Where are we going?" Smalls asked, standing when I did as well.

Jacki started to hiss, "Dat don' mattah-" But Buck put a finger to her lips and shushed her. Once Jacki was silent, the brunette nodded to the street outside the alley where a young blond stood selling papers.

"Am I seein' tings, Buck?"

"Nawh, dat's him."

Jacki strode angrily out of the alleyway, screaming at the teen, "Hey! Kid! Y'know youse sellin' on Brooklyn toirf!"

I was even more confused than before, if it was possible. Edging my way next to Buck, and I whispered, "What's going on?"

"Dat's Kid Blink." Buck said, as if that would explain the matter. When my confused expression remained, she continued, "E's from Man'attan. Dey ain't s'posed ta be heah."

After a few minutes after heated arguments between Jacki and Kid Blink, the blond sighed in what was obviously frustration and began to trudge away. Jacki hurried back to us and whispered, "Awwrite, we's getting youse all ta Man'attan. But it's gotta be quick, and ya gotta keep up or get lawst."

**Wow, it's been a while since I updated, huh? Much thanks to Cowboy's Goil for reminding me this existed! I hope the second chapter is up to your expectations!**

******DON'T FORGET TO LEAVE A THOUGHTFUL REVIEW!  
Your time and words are appreciated!**


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